Four Twenty
by Dawnstep
Summary: Bringing your boyfriend tulips isn't really the same as bringing him weed, right? Happy International Pot Day.


Four Twenty

Genre: romance/humor

Pairing: NetCan (Netherlands/Canada)

Rating: T

Word count: 893

Disclaimer: I highly suspect that I am not, in fact, Hidekaz Himaruya, and therefore do not own Hetalia.

Summary: Bringing your boyfriend tulips isn't really the same as bringing him weed, right? Happy International Pot Day.

Comments: ahahaha I HAVE NO EXCUSES~ I do adore NetCan, though, and when I heard of this holiday I knew I had to write some. In other words, you can blame my friend Megan, who despite never having smoked (at least not as far as I'm aware) is somehow an expert on most things marijuana.

-x-

"Hey, you know what day it is, right?"

Matthew blinked, furrowing his brow despite the fact that he knew Lars, being (he assumed) across the Atlantic at the moment, couldn't see it. "Um. Wednesday?"

"No, no," the other said, sounding impatient. "The date. It's a holiday!"

"A... holiday? Lars, last time I checked, April twentieth wasn't a holiday." _Did I miss something? Maybe I shouldn't have called in sick to that last world meeting... I _did _have the flu, though,_ Matthew thought, steadily growing more and more confused.

"Exactly. It's April twentieth. 4/20."

"...okay, you're just going to have to tell me."

The voice at the other end of the line sighed in disappointment, and he could practically picture Lars shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Happy International Pot Day, Matt."

For a second, Matthew stood there, eyes wide, left eyebrow's twitching slowly picking up speed. Then, with one growl about how he should have known his boyfriend was only calling him for something stupid, he hung up.

The first three times the phone rang, he ignored it, but when the fourth round of "O Canada" started to chime from the sleek navy BlackBerry (Alfred could keep his shiny new iPhones; personally, Matthew'd always thought the things looked to breakable to ever consider taking out of the house, and certainly not to meetings, especially when he still tended to get sat on roughly once in three times), he decided to take pity on Lars, figuring that maybe he'd summed up the good sense to apologize, since he knew Matt didn't particularly like the fact that so many of the other nations assumed they were only together so they could get high (it wasn't his fault he happened to be one of the only countries with marijuana laws almost as loose as Lars'! That didn't mean he was a stoner, dammit! ...at least not most of the time).

Not even bothering to check the Caller ID, he pressed 'call' and sighed, "Yes, Lars?"

"Okay, you have to admit your reaction was funny."

He seriously considered just hanging up again.

"Don't!" Lars said quickly, as though he could tell exactly what Matt had been thinking. "I'm sorry. I know you don't like people assuming that you're a pothead, but, c'mon, I had to make the joke at least once. Besides, I had to get your attention somehow."

"What do you mean by that?" Matthew asked, reluctantly allowing his smile to break through.

"See, there you go! Smiling is good for you!"

Once again forgetting that Lars couldn't see him, he raised an eyebrow. "...how did you know I was smiling?"

"Verrek," he heard Lars hiss under his breath, before he said in a disarmingly (not to mention suspiciously) cheerful voice, "I, um, I could tell from the way you were talking?"

Giving a long-suffering sigh, Matthew glanced in the direction of the bay window in the living room. "You're outside again, aren't you?"

In response, Lars stood up from the bush he'd been hiding in.

Matt full-out smiled now, since he thought that was probably a better response than whacking his head into the wall hard enough to cause a concussion. "You are so creepy sometimes, you know that, right?"

"Oh, come on!" Lars said into his cellphone, grinning and making a show of hiding something behind his back. "I was just trying to be sweet. After all," he added, pulling the bouquet of tulips from concealment with a flourish, "it is our, what, five-year-three-month-and-two-day anniversary, right?"

"You," Matthew deadpanned, "are full of shit."

"And yet you love me anyway!" Lars replied cheerfully, still talking into the phone and moving to lean against the window. "So, are you going to let me in?"

"No, I think I'll leave you out there," Matt said evenly, the twinkle in his eyes the only indication he wasn't completely serious. Even as he spoke, though, he walked toward the front door, and, finally hanging up his phone, he pulled it open.

Lars was waiting for him, easy grin still spread across his face, holding out the tulips. "Just be glad I didn't bring you a joint. That was my original idea," he said as Matthew took them with a roll of his eyes.

"Let me guess: you're smart enough to know that if you'd done that, and been seen, and people had drawn the wrong conclusions, which they would have, you'd be on the couch for the next month, am I right?"

Lars laughed nervously. "That was my assumption, yes."

"You're smarter than you look, then," Matthew ribbed good-naturedly as they made their way from the entryway to the kitchen, almost on autopilot. When they made it to the white, airy room, with its stainless-steel appliances and adorable little two-person breakfast nook, Matthew quickly fetched a vase and some water and, in short order, the tulips were displayed on the table.

"Now, now, is that any way to treat the loving, amazing boyfriend who brought you flowers and not weed?"

"They're tulips. Your argument is invalid."

"What? Why?"

"Because tulips are just an allusion to weed, or something."

"...your logic sucks."

-x-

Verrek – shit (interjection), at least according to Google Translator. If you're Dutch/know Dutch and there's a better/more accurate way to say it, please let me know.

AAAAAAAH THE ENDING -tears out hair-

That being said, I think I'll go work on my research project now, like I'm supposed to be doing. 'Ta.

-Dawny


End file.
